Lost Innocence
by anotherfreakinthehouse
Summary: Left on the door step of number 4 Private Drive as a babe, the rest of the Wizarding World will pay for ignoring their saviour. Their damaged and scarred saviour At the moment, this story could go anyway possible!
1. Chapter 1

It was the four scars that went from his entirely white left eye to his normally quivering lips that made everyone steer clear of him, the scattering of small scars that marked his neck, arms and hands; the object of his inability to socialise with the other children in his small and close knit class. Close knit, bar him that was.

It was his disfigurement, his pain and punishment.

None of the children cared to find out about what had happened, only wanting to leave the deformed boy to his own quiet devices, the teachers however were a different matter. Speculation on how the boy got the scars was rife amongst the staff; such stories from agreement with the tale the family fed the school about the serious car accident he had been involved with, to much more gruesome and dangerous territory, that many whilst they may have agree with the ideas, never spoke them aloud.

No one really knew what to do with the little boy; they tried to keep the cousin and him separate as possible. The chubby blond boy was forever picking on him, him and the little gang of goons that ran riot in the playground. It was a hard task most of the time to keep an eye out without seeming to deliberately interfere; the cousins mother was on the Board of Governors and her husband's company sponsored many of the events the school threw.

For some of the more concerned teachers it was a lose-lose situation since they were forbidden, upon their teaching contracts (made with a serious clause that none of them seemingly remembered reading prior to signing it) to interfere with the family affairs, although that was also due to the greed of the Headmaster and his higher rating associates.

They, the teachers, would question themselves as they watched the seemingly malnourished boy sit at the back of the classroom alone and silently, getting on with the work never complaining about anything.

If it was so bad why didn't he complain? It couldn't be that really, could it? The staffers constantly reminded themselves of that little notation as if to try and supersede their heavy guilt of negligence they each carried and seemed to become heavier after each school holiday, or half term, had the child in question coming back looking more down trodden and withdrawn than ever.

This particular day happened to be a Monday, back from one of those half terms where they would look over the child form in contempt and pure wretchedness, still unable to do anything.

The teacher, a young bright little thing, fresh out of university walked through the door to the brightly coloured classroom with a little blonde haired girl behind her; the class fell silent as they turned from there inane chatter to observe the girl who was clearly making a move on _their_ territory.

"Good morning boys and girls, we have a new student starting with us today, her name is Amy Turner and I want you all to be nice to her, she has just moved all the way from London, please make her feel welcome," the hostile looks sent her way had her shuffling her feet shyly wringing her leather clad hands, head bowed so her fringe covered her fading black eyes.

Miss Henderson felt her heart break, damn the contract she had signed, seeing the looks and feeling the vibes of snootiness from around the room decided to place her with her other quiet student. Poor girl didn't have a chance in this school. School? She almost snorted aloud and successfully kept the disgusted look off her face as she led the girl to the back of the room, this place was more like a prison for the insecure and a boxing ring for the bullying little shi-

"Amy why don't you come and sit with Harry today, I'm sure he'll look after you, Harry is a very good students," she had tried praising the boy, but he had always rejected it, recoiled away from it even but she still tried.

She had however unknowingly, given the two just a tiny sliver of hope as a tentative friendship formed, blossomed quickly into a stronger relationship that would share many a heart ache and once in a while a slice of joy.

The pair was seen together always after that initial day of being placed next to each other. Miss Henderson knew that the girl wouldn't exactly be a loud case for she seemed almost identical to Harry in her demeanour, but she never expected them both to draw in on themselves completely.

Even the rest of her class had come to ignore the presence of the two silent students instead of tormenting and teasing them whenever they thought the teacher wasn't looking. It almost seemed as if there had never been a new girl; she had never spoken accept for the odd 'good morning' and 'good afternoon' in registration.

The two were never seen in the playground and had seemingly found a sanctuary from the boy's cousin in the school library. Said cousin wouldn't dare set foot in the library, even in lesson time he would kick up such a fuss that his home teacher had all but given up on him. The boy had a fear of the cantankerous old librarian ever since he was scolded for scribbling in a textbook.

The girl and boy, Harry and Amy were never far from each other, choosing to sit together on one large beanbag rather than their own ones, drawing comfort from the silent company of the other person, knowing that finally, there was someone for them to talk to, even if it was only each other. Just because they didn't chatter in front of other people didn't mean that they didn't talk at all, quite the contrary actually.

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**A/N** Hello to all and to all a hello :) this is my first fiction on this site, although i have been indeed writing for other sites so you may recognize some of the material you are reading, feel free to question that if your suspicious :P (I would XD)

Any way, still learning the what's and buttons on this site so play nice and i'll up-date as often as i possibly can.

Remember, if you like it review, if you don't review! If you simply not fussed about any of it..... REVIEW! :)

love love


	2. Chapter 2

The pair was seen together always after that initial day of being placed next to each other. Miss Henderson knew that the girl wouldn't exactly be a loud case for she seemed almost identical to Harry in her demeanour, but she never expected them both to draw in on themselves completely.

Even the rest of her class had come to ignore the presence of the two silent students instead of tormenting and teasing them whenever they thought the teacher wasn't looking. It almost seemed as if there had never been a new girl; she had never spoken accept for the odd 'good morning' and 'good afternoon' in registration.

The two were never seen in the playground and had seemingly found a sanctuary from the boy's cousin in the school library. Said cousin wouldn't dare set foot in the library, even in lesson time he would kick up such a fuss that his home teacher had all but given up on him. The boy had a fear of the cantankerous old librarian ever since he was scolded for scribbling in a textbook.

The girl and boy, Harry and Amy were never far from each other, choosing to sit together on one large beanbag rather than their own ones, drawing comfort from the silent company of the other person, knowing that finally, there was someone for them to talk to, even if it was only each other. Just because they didn't chatter in front of other people didn't mean that they didn't talk at all, quite the contrary actually.

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"He did it again last night," he said softly after they had settled onto a large black beanbag in the furthest corner from anyone in the library, his voice was gentle, his lips quivered with a fierce remembrance of the mantra he had been forced to speak by his brutish uncle.

"Show me," her own voice hoarse because of hours of screaming as a result of her own punishments, he rolled to his side away from her and she lifted his once white now grey school polo top and slightly too big navy jumped, up and away from his back so as to not irritate what she already knew would be nasty wound.

She grimaced indifferently at the clear outline of a leather belt strap which had done its damage multiple times, evident by the multitude of lacerations of the black and blue flesh, not only the leather of the belt but also what she guessed was the buckle end too as the blood had dried smeared all over his abused skin, puncture marks leaving her horrifically intrigued as to why Harry hadn't died due to internal bleeding. Surely the stab marks went deep enough...

"I'll try, but-but I don't know if there's much a can do. He really laid into you," she whispered in his ear as she took off a leather glove placing it under his top subtly and on the small of his bad, feeling the radiating heat from the scorching and soon-to-be-infected-if-they-weren't-seen-to wounds.

Harry, due to his families 'tender loving care', had a very high tolerance for pain, in fact he and Amy shared that feat; most adults wouldn't have been able to handle the pain they both suffered from, under their carers hands. As such the healing process Amy performed felt like a small pinch in comparison. Healing naturally nearly always caused some sort of pain; it was unavoidable.

It was like fixing a piece of broken furniture, once you had located the broken parts, you either had to remove them and replace them of simply fix them with the materials you had an since Amy couldn't replace muscle and bones, she concentrated hard on her inner mantle, releasing the small figurative burst of yellow sending it from her centre to her fingers and still further away from her, fixing the tiny fractures in Harrys hip and spine, alleviating the stress on his back by easing the pain and trying to encourage the regeneration of the slowly healing strained muscles and ligaments.

He turned back round once he felt her hand had vanished from her back and saw her intense blue eyes looking at her scarred hand, before quickly slipping the glove back on and looking back at her friend. Yes, he was her friend and she had helped him, she gave him a small smile and he replied with a small upturn of his lips, his way of a smile.

Whilst Harry could talk with ease, expressions were something entirely different considering the scars on his face. The scars were never seen too for fear of them being found out of child abuse so when 'it' had happened his aunt had been forced to take care of him, but she didn't take care of him well enough and infection had taken root and caused severe nerve damage; eventually he had gone blind in his left eye. Try as she might, no amount of help from Amy could even change that; although some of the much smaller and less noticeable scars had disappeared.

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**A/N** Seeeeeee :) i have two Chapters up on my first......hour i think it's been since i've been uploading :F fun, fun, fun

REVIEW AND THOU SHALL BE REWARDED :)

love love


	3. Chapter 3

Three more years had passed on since the two children had met and they were halfway through there last term in their 6th and final year at a school, which hadn't turned out to be so bad in the end. Many bruises, scars, lashes, and horror stories had been shared and shown as they confided in each other for the support and love they both desperately wanted but also dreadfully feared at the same time.

They were as close as close could get, they knew what the other was thinking, knew when they had, had a _very_ bad night and were silent without resentment when the other needed some quiet time. But today was special, not special different. In fact the whole week had been different all because Amy hadn't shown up and Harry's nerves were starting to tear at him more frantically, even after a beating she was usually at school within a week.

He knew he would be whipped within an inch of his life when he got home, but he had to go and see her, even for a moment from a window as long as he saw her...as long as he knew she was aliv-

He bit his tongue to stop his thoughts but he was desperate, so he was going to knock for her; she had been different for the last month, stranger, more distant and he found her to be seemingly in a world of her own most of the time. She had become too pale, bags under her eyes were that of a 50 year of insomniac, not that of a ten year old girl.

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He couldn't believe he was here, as determined as he was to see her, he couldn't help the tremor running through his malnourished body, he clenched his hands for a moment hoping to subside the shaking and failing. He reached for the door knocker and closing his eyes tightly, he grasped it and hammered it once loudly, loud enough to have roused anyone in the house, but no one came.

When he had approached the tiny house on the counsel estate his emotions spiked, the curtains were closed, they looked heavy from the outside, thick and dark, just like the ones in his aunts living room and his bedroom or rather private torture chamber.

He opened his eyes, un-scrunched his face as he looked up. The door was open! Cold sweat stuck his school shirt to his back, he could taste bile in his mouth, his stomach churned and the adrenaline in his system surged around his little body, causing a him to panic, look around frantically before pushing the door open some more and slipping inside it closing it silently behind him all the while keeping his eyes peeled for signs of life in the house.

He squinted where he stood as his eyes adjusted to the consuming darkness before moving silently and swiftly into the left room of the front door to check to see if there was sign of anyone even living at the house; all he had found so far was a broken sofa, a small TV, dozens of empty beer cans and a badly smelling kitchen which he took one look in a left before he could be sick.

He check the other room on the ground floor, again found empty beer cans, but this time there was a small rag doll which held his attention for a few minutes not sure whether to pick it up or leave it. He decided to leave it; he would need both hands if he needed any in this excursion of his.

Harry knew which room belonged to the little girl he had come to love, in fact they knew the general layout of each others 'just in case' something a child should never have to contemplate

As he climbed the stairs, again silently and promptly, he looked at the door straight in front of him, the one to his left was her dads and the one of the right was the bathroom she had told him once before. He saw the locks on the door and realised it was just like the ones on his only there were less of them, and he realised upon taking a few steps closer they were unlocked and that the door was open ajar.

'Please don't be in here, please don't be-' he took a deep breath, she wouldn't be in here, and she would have heard him. He was just working himself up, getting into a state. Almost laughing out loud at himself for letting his imagination get the better of him, he pushed the door open and was blinded momentarily by the blazing June sun that poured through the open window.

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**A/N** You love it! :P


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